


Descent into Madness Part Four

by Sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr



Series: Descent Into Madness [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Collars, Dildos, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Extremely Dubious Consent, Growing list of toys used in a dub con/non con fashion, Handcuffs, Manacles, Non-Consensual Bondage, Psychological Torture, Riding Crops, Suspension, Torture, small spaces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-11 12:23:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: This month, when Mycroft and Sherlock visit their sister, they go bearing a gift they hope will make a difference.





	1. Gifts

John and Greg stood there, a united front. The doctor's hands were on his hips whilst the DI's were crossed over his chest.

"You can't honestly think we're going to let you go back there," John challenged. "That's absolutely not going to happen."

It had been a month since they'd returned home from Sherrinford and neither of the brothers had spoken about that day since. They both now sat on the sofa in Mycroft's office, their boyfriends leaning over them. 

"She's our sister," Mycroft whispered eventually.

"Ha! She doesn't bloody well act like a sister," Greg complained. "She's... She's... She's completely mental! I'm sorry, but she is. What if she kills one of you this time?!"

Sherlock ducked his head and John stepped forward. He grabbed the detective by the scruff of the neck and yanked his head back. 

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me, Sherlock. Right now, or I will not let you out of my sight."

"She wasn't trying to kill me."

"When?"

"She tried to hang me-"

"She did what?" John's voice had raised in pitch and then he saw the look on Mycroft's face. 

It was Greg who spoke up this time, "What did she do to you?"

"Gregory-"

“Tell me."

"The coffin had air in it."

Greg turned around and walked a few steps away, trying not to lose control of himself. "The coffin. Had air in it." He ran both hands through his hair, more upset than he had ever before been in his life.

"Like I said, you're not going," John insisted. "You would both have to be insane to think we would let you."

Sherlock looked at his boyfriend, then said one word, a name, "Rosie."

"Don't try that on me, Sherlock, it won't wash."

"John-"

"Eurus has already said she won't 'play' with Rosie. She isn't even a person to the psychotic bitch."

"I have to go!" Sherlock snapped. 

"She holds Sherrinford," Mycroft added. "And won't cause trouble on the basis that we continue playing with her."

Sherlock stood. "We're going. You have a choice to make. Support us and be waiting when we get back, or-"

"Or what? Throw your things out of the flat?" the doctor asked sarcastically. "You know that's not a choice." He turned and slammed his fist into the wall.

With a shake of his head, Mycroft stood. "It's not the wall's fault, John. We're simply doing what needs to be done."

"Why you?" John turned suddenly teary eyed on his boyfriend.

"I'm a Holmes," he wrapped his arms around the doctor. "We're all psychopaths."

"You're really not," John said hugging his boyfriend back hard and not wanting to ever let him go. "You're a good man. Ask Greg if you don't believe me."

Greg shook his head. "A good man, maybe, but an idiot definitely." He wrapped his arms around his own boyfriend. "If you die, I will kill you. Are we clear on that, Mycroft Holmes?"

Mycroft nodded once, "Yes, sir." He squeezed the DI tighter in his arms.

John, still holding onto Sherlock tight, asked, "How long do we wait before we come rescue you?"

The detective kissed the top of John's head. "If we're not back Sunday evening, you'll know something has gone wrong."

"And what do I tell Rosie?"

"Aunty Eurus isn't feeling well. The usual."

"And when you come home in pieces?"

Sherlock smiled sadly. "I won't." He patted his brother on the back. "I've got my big bro to help."

"Gregory, it's time for me and Sherlock to go," Mycroft said patting the DI's arm. "Try not to worry too much."

Greg snorted. "As if I could keep from it."

"Go to the pub and get pissed then," Sherlock suggested, reaching around the doctor to snag up his overnight bag. He had no idea if he would need it, but they never knew what insane ideas Eurus would come up with.

John closed his eyes as the brothers headed out of the office. When he opened them, he saw that Greg was looking at him, obviously feeling just as lost.

"We'd best see them to the car, then," the DI said, sounding defeated.

Together, they caught up to their boyfriends and saw them off.

The two Holmeses were glad to see the helipad void of Sherrinford guards. 

"Seems we're allowed a few more hours of peace this time round," Sherlock mumbled, clambering up into the helicopter. It's rotors were already spinning.

Mycroft nodded. "I honestly don't know whether to be surprised or not." He looked out over the scenery as the helicopter rose higher. "Would you like to see what I brought?" he asked as he tapped the folder that had been waiting for them in the helicopter.

Sherlock's eyebrow rose. He glanced at the folder. "Something to do with family."

"Photos, actually. Not many were saved from the fire, but what I have are here."

"Why have you got them?"

Mycroft looked away.

"Mummy and Daddy don't know you've got them,” Sherlock deduced.

"When the fire went out they gathered everything up and hid these. It didn't take long to find them."

"Do you honestly think they will make a difference?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft shrugged. "I don't know. Odd things seem to get through to her and she does seem obsessed with the past."

"Yes, because we weren't in it."

"We are in these," he waved the folder. 

"She'll probably rip them up or something similar."

"I did consider that," Mycroft assured him. "I wouldn't risk Mummy's anger. Anthea made electronic copies of them."

All too soon they were drawing close to Sherrinford. 

Sherlock sighed heavily as they began to descend. 

Mycroft pushed all the photos back into the folder.

Four guards awaited them, guns aimed at the helicopter as it landed. They climbed out of it, all too used to the routine by now.

"Hello boys!" Sherlock called out as he gave the guards a wave. "Would you mind too terribly showing us to our room?"

Two guards appeared behind them and shoved them in their backs with their guns. Another stepped forward and snatched the folder from the older Holmes' hands. 

"Hey!" Sherlock tried reaching it back.

The guard ignored him.

"If I was you, I'd make sure Eurus gets that folder," Sherlock advised. "If you don't, your odds of living until evening are approaching zero."

The guard just smirked and shoved Sherlock towards the door. 

"Going so soon?" The detective called after him when the guard returned to his position on the roof.

Once inside, Sherlock muttered, "Idiot." He almost felt sorry for the guard. There was no telling what Eurus would do to him, but he was certain it wouldn't end well.

Mycroft shrugged. He didn't feel sorry for the guard in the least.

"Brothers!" Eurus appeared at the end of the corridor, waving.

"This can't be good," the detective whispered. 

Mycroft just shushed him.

They kept walking until they were standing only a few feet away from their sister.

Mycroft put on a thin smile. "Sister dear. You look... well." Actually she looked a bit wild about the eyes, more so than usual.

"Look what I've been doing." She took off up the corridor, almost… skipping. 

Sherlock frowned, but before either of them could move, they were grabbed by guards and cuffed. 

"How predictable," Mycroft complained. 

Eurus' head peered out from behind a door. "Come on, you two, what’s the hold up?"

"Your guards were being boring," Sherlock said, rattling his cuffs in a disapproving manner. "What's the point of these anyway? You'll just get bored and take them off again."

Eurus waited for them to reach her and then walked around, jingling the cuffs herself. 

"I'm not bored of them."

"No. But you will be soon enough."

She shrugged, "Are you not going to see what I've got going on in here?" The youngest Holmes grinned.

"Oh, we can't wait," Sherlock muttered as he followed her the short distance into the waiting room. There was a long, empty table standing in the middle with straps hanging from it.

"Oh goodie," Sherlock muttered. "Me first or Mycroft?"

Eurus frowned. "Why would I want you in it?"

"Because that's what this is all about." The detective rolled his eyes.

Their sister walked around the table, running her fingers along the edges. "Oh, Sherlock, this is about understanding you. She snapped her fingers and the guards brought a struggling man in and strapped him to the table.

Sherlock's eyes widened. "Gregson? What the hell Eurus?"

"I've heard you talking about him. To John and that other Inspector person. You think he's a… jerk."

Mycroft leant against the table, his dread sitting heavy in the pit of his stomach. "Why is he here?" he asked.

"He's a present for our dear brother. I thought he might enjoy playing a bit."

Gregson was thrashing against the straps where he'd now been tied to the bench. 

"Just because I think he's an imbecile does not mean I want to torture him!"

Eurus frowned. "Why not?"

"I don't do that!" Sherlock shouted. "I help people." 

Eurus put her hand on Gregson's chest. "I'll be happy to hurt him for you. It's the least a sister can do."

"Eurus, this is wrong."

"Again with that word. I do not understand the point of it. Everything's wrong."

"No," Sherlock shook his head, realising now why he was cuffed. "You're wrong."

Eurus walked along the length of the table, stopping to grab Gregson by the cock and twist.

"Stop!" Sherlock demanded over the DI's pained scream. "This won't make me happy. It's not a gift."

"But it is a gift. I've given him to you."

Sherlock shook his head, even harder than before. 

Mycroft was in one corner, facing the wall, he couldn't watch this. 

"No," Sherlock repeated. 

"You were happy when I gave you my Stradivarius."

"The violin was a beautiful gift. Don't you see?" He surged towards her, speaking in an urgent tone. "The violin was a part of you. That's what you gave me along with it, a piece of yourself." 

Mycroft admired his brother's fluency, though he knew it was wasted on their sister.

"Then this is a gift from him, not from me," Eurus nodded. "Right, I understand now."

Sherlock let his head fall back and hit the wall, then he turned to his brother. "Are you not going to help?"

Gregson looked from Sherlock to Mycroft with wide, panicked eyes. He didn't understand what was happening. Of the three people in the room, he only knew Sherlock. He was terrified that his safety seemed to hinge on him.

"What good would I be?" the eldest Holmes asked.

"Don't be a sour grape, Mycroft."

The government official pushed himself away from the wall. "Explaining a gift to Eurus is like me telling you not to touch that flame when you were a child."

"I did touch that flame."

"Yes. And I spent 6 hours in A&E with you. Eurus needs to experience a gift to understand it."

"I don't have a gift to give her," Sherlock hissed. "What am I supposed to do?"

Mycroft tilted his head. "Remember the guard," he said pointedly.

The detective's lips formed a silent 'Oh' as he understood. He turned back to face Eurus. "We brought you something, but one of the guards took it as we left the helicopter. It's meant to be a gift. For you. Please. Like Mycroft said, you need to see it to understand."

Eurus tilted her head on one side. 

"Please," Sherlock added. 

"Take them to their cage," Eurus ordered. "If you don't want to appreciate the gift I've given you, you can enjoy the uncomfortableness I have in store."

"But Eurus-" Sherlock tried to argue as they were dragged out of the room. 

"I'll be seeing to that guard."

Gregson thrashed and cried out as the brothers were led away, but there was nothing they could do for him, not with guns pressed to their backs.

The doors shut and the lights turned off, leaving Gregson in the dark. 

"How are we going to get him out of here?" Sherlock hissed as they were shoved into the cage. 

Mycroft shrugged, then grunted when the guards pushed him to his knees, attaching the cuffs to the floor.

Sherlock received similar treatment. "I suppose the first thing is to keep him alive." He watched as the guards left. Keeping Gregson alive meant not using the lock pick in the lining of his coat sleeve. After their last visit when he had used it, he was surprised he had been allowed to keep his clothing.

"Is this a set up?" Mycroft asked when the guards reappeared for some reason. 

The younger brother shook his head, hissing as his feet were chained to the floor. 

When the guards backed out of the cage again, Sherlock spoke. "That was genuine confusion."

"Somehow, that's all the more worrisome. What if she decides you've scorned her gift and takes it out on you?"

"If she does, there's nothing I can do about it. I can't hurt him. But I don't think she will either. Of course, Eurus will probably find other reasons to make me uncomfortable."

Mycroft let out a dry laugh and then jerked his head to the cuffs holding him to the floor. "Aside from that?"

"Be fair, Mycroft, this is a tickle in comparison to last time."

"Fair point." Mycroft sighed. "I think the worst part is the wa-"

Eurus inevitably appeared on the TV. Behind her, the guard from the helipad was bound to a chair. 

"What are these?" she asked holding up a handful of the photographs.

"What do they look like, little sister?" Mycroft asked sarcastically. 

"Why would you have these? Of what purpose are they?"

"They're photographs of our childhood."

She picked up one photo that showed Sherlock climbing a rock, Mycroft reading and Eurus spinning in circles. She tilted her head to the left, then to the right before turning the photograph towards the camera. "We were together. All three of us."

"Yes," Mycroft said slowly. 

"Why?"

"We did a lot together, Eurus."

"No we didn't. Sherlock was always with Victor!"

The detective ducked his head and closed his eyes. The thought of that hurt more than he liked, but he didn't think it was just losing his best friend… it was the thought that John could have followed.

"Not always, little sister," Mycroft said sadly. "Not on family holidays."

Eurus put the photo down and picked up another one. She went through photo after photo, her face remaining puzzled as she examined them.

"Eurus, you know we could come here to visit you and play actual board games. Like… Monopoly." Mycroft was watching his brother as he spoke, but Sherlock was staring at the floor. "You don't have to tie us up and treat us like this."

"Board games?" she asked as she peered closely at one of the photos. "Don't children play those?"

"You don't have to be a child to enjoy them. It's... fun to stop being so serious all the time."

Eurus slammed the photo down. "Why would I want to lower myself to a child's level? I've told you before, they're not really human."

Sherlock immediately thought of Rosie and it got his hackles up. "Are you?" He spat. "You're about as close to being human as a bumble bee! No, no. That's an insult to bees. You're about as human as an amoeba." Sherlock nodded his head in emphasis.

"Oh, that's telling her," Mycroft muttered.

"Shut up, Mycroft!"

"No, little brother. You shut up! Why do you always have to piss her off?"

"Because it's so much bloody fun!" Sherlock snapped.

"I think I understood that! That was sarcasm." Eurus seemed proud of herself.

Sherlock tilted his head to the side. "Mm, yes and at the same time, a resounding no. I do enjoy pissing you off. I'm not so fond of the aftermath."


	2. A Devil's Bargain

"What do I do with this person?" Eurus asked, stepping out of the camera's way so it was aimed at the guard that had taken the folder. 

Mycroft closed his eyes, lowering his head away from the TV. He knew what was coming and didn't like the idea, much less wanted to watch it.

"You don't do anything with him," Sherlock said urgently. "Or just lock him in a cell. That would be fair. He stole from you, so ju-"

"Shut up!" Eurus shouted. She picked up a gun and levelled it at the guard.

"Eurus, no!"

But she fired anyway. Mycroft immediately looked away, Sherlock was staring at the screen over his shoulder. "Eurus, there was no need for that."

"But the guilty must be punished."

"Proportionately!" Sherlock yelled, tugging at his cuffed wrists.

Eurus played with the gun for a bit, before looking directly into the camera. "His end was quick. If he had hurt one of you, it wouldn't have been. I would have tortured him first. Isn't that punishing him proportionately?"

Sherlock closed his eyes. 

"You torture us. Every month. Every time we come and see you."

"That's different. And it's not torture. Because I'm your sister."

"Eurus," Mycroft said, his voice full of horror, "how does that make it anything but torture?"

"Because I invited you here to play and you came." She finally set the gun down and picked up a photo, turning it towards the camera. "See, you even brought me presents. You want to be here."

Mycroft ducked his head much like Sherlock had. He was sure the only reason his little brother was still cuffed was because of Gregson a few cells along.

"I don't think the photos worked like you had planned," Sherlock muttered.

Mycroft felt the weight of his failure where Eurus was concerned settle over him anew. It was his fault, all of it. Maybe he deserved to be here at her mercy. Even as he thought it, he knew that Sherlock didn't deserve it. It only made him feel that much worse.

"Mycroft…" Sherlock tried, but his brother stared at the floor, ignoring him. 

"Looks like you've broken him, little big brother."

Sherlock glared over his shoulder at the screen. "Shut up."

Eurus rocked back and forth. "If he doesn't come around, he can stay here with me. We'll have lots of fun."

"Mycroft. Myc! Whatever you're thinking, stop it. You didn't make our sister the way she is."

Sod Gregson, Mycroft was more important. He slipped the paper clip from his jacket sleeve and got his hands and feet free as quickly as possible.

"What are you doing?!" Eurus shouted.

Sherlock ignored her. He quickly freed Mycroft and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. "Don't you let her do this to you. I need you, Myc. You can't let her into your head like this. You've done your best."

Mycroft didn't reply, but he did turn his head into Sherlock's shoulder. 

"It'll be alright, Mycie, I promise. Eurus isn't your fault, if it's anyone's, blame Mummy and Daddy."

Two guards entered the room, but didn't take immediate action.

"Are you almost done with the hugging?" Eurus asked in a bored tone. "It's not that I mind, it's just not very interesting."

"Piss off!"

"No, no, no. Enough of such crude language."

The guards left Mycroft where he was for a moment, but immediately stripped Sherlock of his suit.

"You should have saved that trick for something important," Eurus observed.

"There was nothing more important than what I did use it for." Sherlock didn't fight as he was once again restrained. "But that understanding is beyond you."

Across the cage, Mycroft was being stripped, just in case. He still didn't look like himself, he looked defeated.

"Leave that brother untied, he looks like a broken puppy dog." Eurus grinned. "Just like Redbeard."

"Shut up," Sherlock hissed.

"You're being rude again."

Sherlock couldn't help but glare at the television. "I pitied you once, the fool that I am." He turned his gaze back on his brother, barely noting when the guards left.

Eurus had leapt to her feet. "I don't need your pity!"

Sherlock struggled to keep on top of the need to snigger. "No, little sister?" He growled. "Then what exactly do you need?"

Their sister swiped her arm across the table, knocking the photos and the gun to the floor.

Sherlock cringed instinctively, expecting the gun to fire, but it didn't. "I'd watch that temper, little sister, if I were you."

Mycroft was still unresponsive. He hadn't even looked up at the noise that Eurus was making. 

"Turn the lights out," Eurus ordered. "I need time to think."

Sherlock knew what he had to say to get through to his brother. It wouldn't be easy. For that reason, he was actually grateful for the darkness. "Myc, listen to me. Where would I be without you?" He waited for a response, but it didn't come. "I know you tell yourself that it was John who saved me or even Greg, but who was it kept me alive for them to save? It was you. You did everything you could for me and you did the same for our sister."

Mycroft snorted causing Sherlock to laugh lightly. 

"What was that supposed to mean, big brother?"

"You were 22 when you met Gregory, Sherlock. And you'd already been in rehab once."

"I hated every minute of it. I hated you for putting me there, too. But it might have been what bought me enough time to even meet Greg. If you hadn't intervened..." Sherlock wanted nothing more than to go to his brother and hold him tight until he understood, until he believed, but he couldn't get free, not again. The cuffs were tighter for a start, and his feet were spread apart more, he couldn't reach either of them and any help was in his suit. 

Mycroft shuffled forward in the dark, trying to get close to Sherlock.

"I'm here," Sherlock said softly. When Mycroft touched him, then leaned up against him, the detective gave a sigh of relief. "Tell me you understand. I don't want to have said all that and it go to waste, because, believe me, I'm not saying it again."

Mycroft gave a sad chuckle. "I believe you. Mostly. I'll never stop thinking there was something more I should have done. For both of you."

"What else could you have done?"

Mycroft gave no verbal response, but Sherlock felt him shrug against him. 

"My point precisely, Mycroft."

The lights began flashing in a random pattern.

"That's going to get old fairly quick," Sherlock observed.

Just as his brother was about to reply, a ticking sound started. It didn't seem to have any relationship to the flashing lights. It was simply another unwelcome layer of sensory input.

Sherlock let out a huff. "I much prefer this to the bloody 'tic, tic, tic, tic' of Moriarty."

Mycroft chuckled softly beside him. "Yeah, I was most surprised with his cooperation with our sister."

"I've always wondered..." Sherlock drifted off.

"Yes?"

"Was it her idea to make me jump, or his? Did he kill himself because she programmed him to do it and, if so, was it to save me from him or to help him trap me?"

Mycroft closed his eyes for a moment. "Say that again."

Sherlock let out a laugh. "You really must be feeling like shit. Who decided to make me jump? Eurus or Jim? And if it was Eurus, was she saving me or condemning me?"

"If it was her idea…" Mycroft sat forward, feeling ill. He had assumed Eurus had given Jim information to assist him with the game he had played with Sherlock. He hadn't considered the implications beyond that. "But his suicide…" He didn't feel like himself, he couldn't think through it properly. It had to be because he was letting his emotions get the better of him.

"I'm sure his suicide was his own fault," Sherlock pointed out. "Eurus wouldn't have bothered with a contingency plan back then… emotions. But he would have done."

"The complexity of the game- Targeting your friends-" Mycroft shook his head in the darkness. "It could have been her, but it could have been Moriarty. There's no way of knowing unless she chooses to tell us. She's too hard to read."

"And we'll never know if she's lying or not."

Mycroft shook his head, "No I suppose we won't."

"What if Gregson's only way out of here is me doing what she wants?"

Sherlock felt Mycroft stiffen. "No."

"She's quite capable of forcing me. In fact, she might kill him if I don't." 

"Then you let him choose," Mycroft whispered, hoping to keep Eurus from hearing.

The detective turned his head so he could look at his brother properly. "How do you mean?"

"Ask him which he would prefer. Let him choose. If he survives this, I'll see that he's taken care of."

"One guy is already dead on this excursion, Mycroft. We don't need another."

"I know. But there's not much I can do in here is there?!" He hissed, glad the lights had flickered off again.

"What's the point of asking?" Sherlock asked angrily. "Isn't that just another type of torture?"

"The point, baby brother, is to make him understand you don't have a choice. If he survives, I don't want him pressing charges."

"He won't get anywhere."

"He will… I'm not in control of this place anymore, Lock. I can't just wipe the slate clean."

"I can't force him to make that choice," Sherlock said, defeated. "And I can't make it for him. I could choose for myself, but not for another."

"Will you do it, then, what our sister wants?"

Sherlock bowed his head. How could he? It would destroy him if he tried. He thought about it for a long hard moment. "No. He may be a plank but we need to protect him from our sister, if that's still her aim. She might be bored of the idea already."

They fell into silence, waiting for whatever would happen next.

The TV lit up and Eurus appeared, her face blank. "Brother-mine, little big brother, Sherlock," she sang. "If you don't want me to hurt the man I brought for you, you have to convince me."

Sherlock's head snapped up at that, it sounded ominous. "Convince you how?"

Guards walked in and grabbed Mycroft. "You do what you should do on that man, to Mycroft."

"No! Please!"

For his part, Mycroft nodded. "You know it's the only way, Lock. You have to."

Sherlock wilted, dropping his head. His brother was right and he hated that fact.

The guards dragged Mycroft to the edge of the cage and cuffed him, they hung his cuffed wrists from a hanging hook then winched it up. 

"Mycroft…" the detective trailed off not knowing what to say.

He couldn't help thinking his brother still blamed himself and saw this as punishment. Well, Sherlock would worry about that when they got home. He couldn't afford the distraction now. "What am I supposed to do, Eurus?" he asked into the air.

The guards got rid of his restraints and hauled him to his feet. 

"Eurus!" Sherlock repeated, it felt like he was yelling at nothing, but he did it anyway.

He started pacing the cage like a wild beast. How was he supposed to know what his sister wanted? She didn't live in the real world, didn't understand it. What would she deem appropriate punishment for a few insults and derision?

"Go up to him, Sherlock."

Slowly, the younger brother walked towards the older one. 

"Grab his little man part."

"Eurus-"

"Brother-mine, you didn't seem to know what to do. Now be a good boy and do as I say."

Sherlock grasped Mycroft's cock and waited.

"Now give it a good hard twist. I want to hear him scream, so don't hold back."

Mycroft closed his eyes. "Do it."

"Mycroft," Sherlock let his cock go. "I can't."

Mycroft thrashed in the restraints. "Do it, Sherlock."

"I'll kill the nasty inspector man if you don't," their sister warned.

"See. Do it. I won't break. I haven't yet."

Sherlock refrained from pointing out that his brother had been near breaking just minutes before, though that had admittedly been about something other than the physical. He braced himself, grabbed onto Mycroft again and twisted, his brother's cry of pain like a knife in the gut.

Sherlock let it go and stumbled backwards. 

"Get on your knees, Sherlock!"

"What? That's it? One time and we're done?"

"I never said you were done. Take his bits in your mouth. Imagine he's the Inspector for me."

The detective didn't like the direction this was going. "Mycie," he hissed under his breath.

"Don't make me keep asking you to do it," Mycroft said, closing his eyes. "Just get on with it."

Kneeling, Sherlock took a deep breath and did as he had been ordered. He hoped he was wrong about what he was going to be asked to do.

Of course he wasn't.

"Bite."

Sherlock pulled off immediately and his eyes flickered up to his brother. Straight away they were at an understanding.

Sherlock took his brother's cock in his mouth again, and quickly pretended to bite, Mycroft yelled out accordingly.

Pretending to be sickened by his own act, the detective bent double and simulated gaging noises. It wasn't difficult. All he had to do was image Mycroft's cries if it had been real.

"Suck it."

Sherlock glanced up at the screen. "What?"

"Suck it. Lick it better."

Sherlock was amazed they'd gotten away with it, he carefully leant forward on his knees again and took Mycroft's cock back into his mouth.

The elder Holmes had his eyes shut once again, but for an entirely different reason than before. He didn't want to look down and see what his brother was doing. Instead, he concentrated on not getting hard.

It was easier than he expected, Sherlock just knelt with his cock in his mouth, he did nothing that could count as stimulating. He couldn't help but think he should try harder, Eurus always got angry when she was bored.

Their sister heaved a dramatic sigh. "You're not doing a very good job, Lockie. Our big brother isn't getting hard."

Sherlock popped off Mycroft's cock. "How the bloody hell could he after what you just made me do to it?"

She frowned. "How'd you mean?"

"Hurting him is not going to arouse him. And it's no different to last time. His brother sucking his cock isn't going to make him get hard, we've already discovered this."

"A mouth is a mouth." She waved her hand. "It shouldn't matter. Aren't you men supposed to think with your man bits instead of your brain?"

"Eurus, my reaction to him doing this is the same to what it would be if you were to do it."

Eurus frowned, got to her feet and walked towards the camera. "Can I do it?"

"No!" the brother's shouted simultaneously.

It wasn't just that the thought of a sister doing that to her brother was abhorrent, but Eurus might well do Mycroft permanent damage.

"Why not?"

"You're too… young," Mycroft stumbled over the explanation, knowing it was bollocks. 

"Why is it ok for Sherlock to do it and not me?"

Mycroft barked a laugh. "It's not ok for him to do it. You're forcing him."

"She doesn't understand." 

"No, I don't. It's not as if I could get pregnant from it, so it shouldn't matter. There would be no genetically inferior offspring to contend with."

"Eurus, you've had sex once."

"So?"

"So… it was so insignificant for you, that you can't even remember if it was a man you did it with or a woman."

"There is that." She sighed. "It was rather boring." Her eyes went unfocused and she stared off into space.

Sherlock and Mycroft were left waiting, hoping she had been discouraged from her idea. She seemed to have been because she sat back down again. 

"Get on with it, Sherlock."

The detective sighed, but he would much rather do it to Mycroft than let their sister try.

He wrapped his lips around Mycroft's cock and, this time, he actually put effort into his actions. He wasn't going to risk their sister deciding she could do it better herself.

Mycroft closed his eyes, he knew exactly what Sherlock was doing and found himself thankful. 

He wished he could put his hands in his curls to soothe him.

Trying to imagine it was Greg before him was no good. Mycroft didn't want to sully his relationship with the DI in that way. Instead, we wiped his mind clean of all thoughts and tried his best to simply react to the physical stimulation without thought of who was doing it. It worked somewhat, because eventually he began to stiffen.

"Enough!" Eurus yelled from the screen and for one horrible second the two brothers thought she was going to demand a turn. But she didn't, "I'm bored of that, Sherlock. Stop it. Now!"

Mycroft heaved a sigh of relief at her words. He'd much prefer pain to what she had been making Sherlock do. It was best she never learn that.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock stayed on his knees, but moved away a few yards from Mycroft. 

"Now what, dear sister?" Sherlock's voice was… subdued, much to Mycroft's surprise.

"Little Lockie, you don't seem happy. Of course, I could be wrong, but I think I'm starting to be able to read your emotions." She seemed to think for a while. "I know! I need to get you a different present. A better present. Is that good?" She asked. 

Sherlock glanced up at the screen, a worrying frown on his face. "A proper present is a good present. Your violin was a good present."

"What would be a good present?" Eurus asked.

"Let Gregson go. Unharmed," came Sherlock's instant reply. "And uncuff Mycroft." 

"That would make you happy? You would smile?"

Sherlock hadn't exactly been joking, but he had been doubting Eurus' seriousness. At that opportunity, however, he nodded. 

"Ok, then." 

Guards entered the cell immediately and began uncuffing Mycroft from the ceiling.

Sherlock waited until the guards left, then approached his brother. "Ok?"

Mycroft nodded.

"You're not smiling yet," their sister called out."

Sherlock turned and faced the TV. "I will as soon as Gregson is on the helicopter headed home."

"But that wasn't part of the deal."

"I'll smile when I see him on the helicopter."

Eurus waved a guard over and said something in his ear. The guard nodded, then hurried away.

"He'll be gone within 10 minutes. I'll let you watch him leave. Now, brother mine, give me a little smile before I change my mind."

Sherlock managed to smirk enough to call it a smile.

"How can I make you laugh?"

Sherlock glanced from his brother to his sister. "Let us have a shower and eat."

Eurus tilted her head to the side. "Why would that make you laugh?"

"Because I would be happy," Sherlock explained simply.

"Would you laugh too, Mycie?"

"Do you want me to laugh?"

"Of course I do!" 

For some unknown reason Mycroft felt like pushing his luck. "Bring us chocolate cake."

Sherlock chuckled lightly, ducking his head to hide it.

"There's chocolate cake here. I don't like it." She hummed a bit. "We'll have chocolate cake. Go. Shower. We will eat together."

The screen flickered off and the detective turned to Mycroft. "What on earth just happened?"

Mycroft shrugged and shoved his brother towards the now open cage gate. "I have no idea, but let's make the best of it. And Sherlock, try not to piss her off."

"I'll behave if she does."

They followed the guards to the showers where the brothers lingered as long as they dared. By the time they had finished, clothes had been produced for them, not their own, but prison clothes. They shared glances. 

"I don't like this,” Sherlock muttered.

They were both nudged in the back with guns and they began to dress. The heavy metal collars and shackles that were carried into the room should have been a surprise, but they weren't.

"So much for a simple dinner," Sherlock said with a sigh. He held still as the collar and shackles were put on him. He was determined to behave until he knew if Gregson was off the island. Mycroft was treated much the same way. The shackles were joined together, making it difficult to walk as they were shoved from the room.

"Eurus does have the sense of the dramatic," Mycroft noted.

"Family trait, I suppose." Sherlock shrugged, trying to shift the collar. It was heavy and annoying. "When I said I wanted dinner, I meant I wanted to eat with my brother comfortably," Sherlock complained when they made it to the room Eurus was in. 

"You should have been more specific then."

The detective rolled his eyes "What about Gregson? Is he gone?"

"Not yet. I thought you'd want to see him leave for yourself." She pressed a button on the remote and the helipad appeared on the nearby television. 

Gregson looked terrified as he was shoved into the waiting helicopter. It wasn't until it had lifted off and flown away that Eurus turned the TV off.

"Satisfied?"

Sherlock wasn't, not by a long shot. He knew very well that the helicopter could be circling back at that very moment. Still, he pasted his largest fake smile onto his face and said, "Yes, sister. Thank you."

She almost smiled in return and snatched a radio off a nearby guard, speaking into it. "Cancel plan. Take him home."

Sherlock hissed in a breath, keeping his smile in place. He had been right to suspect his sister had planned to double cross him. Without another word of protest, he sat down at the table in the centre of the room.

"No, Sherlock. I don't think so." 

A guard stepped forward and dragged him away from the table by the collar wrapped around his neck. 

"Eurus-" he choked. "You were meant to be giving me a present."

"No, this present is for Mycroft. He gets to sit in the chair. You get to kneel." Eurus gave them her odd smile. "And Mycie can feed you if he likes."

"Eurus, I don't want that present. Why can't we both just sit at the table?"

Eurus slammed her hands down on the wood and growled some code under her breath. Instantly both brothers were forced to their knees either side of Eurus' chair and chained down.

Sherlock' rolled his eyes. "And you told me not to piss her off."

Mycroft shot his brother a look. "I wasn't intending to goad her, unlike you."

"Silence!"

The pair of them actually flinched. 

"Better," Eurus said quieter. She sat petting both of her brothers' hair like they were dogs until food was brought out and placed in front of her.

"I like chicken," Eurus told them as she sliced into the chicken breast on her plate. She stabbed a bit and held it to Mycroft's lips. "If you want dessert, you have to eat everything that's put in front of you."

Mycroft didn't like the sound of that. She could make them eat absolutely anything. He took the chicken from the fork, not looking towards his little brother. 

Eurus kept feeding Mycroft, ignoring Sherlock. It was an unsettling change of focus. She normally seemed obsessed with the younger of her two brothers.

For once, Sherlock was glad for the lack of attention on him. It gave him a while to figure out how the cuffs that held his wrists and ankles joined together worked. They felt more substantial than they actually were and he was sure he could break free of them on a moment's notice. If only Mycroft had the same luxury, but Eurus was keeping him distracted. He wasn't sure what escaping the chains would offer right now. 

"Are you not going to feed Sherlock, little sister?" Mycroft asked eventually.

"Mummy would be disappointed, that wasn't asked very politely." 

Mycroft sighed. "Will you please feed Sherlock too?"

"That's better." Eurus offered the next bite to Mycroft. "But no."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't deserve to be fed, do you, Sherlock?"

The detective glanced around, unsure what the right reply would be. "No, Eurus?"

"Good boy." She patted his curls, making his lip curl up in a snarl. "See, you're not smiling anymore, after everything I've done for you." Abruptly, she pulled her hand back and struck him across the face. "Naughty."

Sherlock ducked his head, assuming that was what Eurus wanted. 

"Why isn't he smiling anymore, Mycroft?" The youngest Holmes asked.

"Honestly," Mycroft said, exasperated. "Perhaps it's because you've got us shackled again and chained to the floor. That does tend to put a damper on the more pleasant emotions."

"Why? You're in here with me. Is that really why he's… sulking?"

"We want to be with you, Eurus. Why do you think we give up a weekend a month to do so? Unchain us and he'll smile."

"No. Not worth the effort."

"Don't expect me to laugh, then." Mycroft clamped his mouth shut and refused to take another bite when it was offered.

Eurus grasped him by the jaw and dug her thumb into the hinge, forcing his mouth open and fed him the bite anyway. Mycroft chewed the food, but resolutely stared at the floor. 

"Don't sulk, Mycroft, its unbecoming."

The government official tried the same trick with the food again, but so did Eurus, pinching his jaw tighter than was necessary. He tried to jerk his head away on the next bite, but Eurus reached out and struck Sherlock again.

"The next time you fail to cooperate, I'll hit him two times, then three and so on."

Mycroft opened his mouth immediately. 

"There we go. Don't you think we all get along better when you cooperate?"

When Mycroft didn't reply, Eurus reached across and chained Sherlock's collar to the floor, keeping him bent prostrate. 

"It'll be more fun kicking his face than hitting it."

"No! I mean, I'm sorry, Eurus," Mycroft said quickly. "It is better when we cooperate." 

"Good." She rested her foot on the back of Sherlock's neck and pressed down. "You like potatoes, don't you?" she asked as she scooped up a large amount and offered it to Mycroft.

"Yes, Eurus," he answered, taking the bite when it was close enough.

She patted Mycroft's head then ate a bite herself. 

Mycroft's eyes darted to his brother who was looking mightily uncomfortable, but there was nothing either of them could do about it, not cuffed and chained as they were.

Eurus started tapping her foot on Sherlock's neck as if she were keeping time with some inner piece of music. Her eyes went unfocused and she swayed back and forth in her chair. She was glad when neither of her brothers moved to stop her and both knelt silently. After a few minutes she picked the fork up again, giving Mycroft more potato. 

Right then and there, he swore he'd never eat another potato in his life, not even a crisp or a chip. He just wanted this to be over for his brother's sake.

The next forkful, Eurus stared at it. "Here comes the aeroplane." She swooped it towards Mycroft and then stopped. 

"Why do mummies and daddies do that?"

Mycroft knew his answer would just encourage her, but there was no help for it. "It's a game to get reluctant children to eat."

Eurus frowned. "Mummy was always doing it with him." She pressed her foot into Sherlock's neck a little harder. He didn't bother fighting back. 

"That was because Sherlock doesn't eat. Even now."

"Everyone has to eat."

"I should say, he only eats when John makes him, otherwise he would forget."

A guard brought in chocolate cake. Mycroft wished he hadn't asked for it, though it had been more to irritate Eurus than anything else.

Sherlock let out shallow breaths as his sister lifted her foot off his neck, it didn't make his position much more comfortable, but it was still better. 

"Can you let Sherlock eat please, Eurus?" Mycroft asked as politely as he could manage.

Humming in a noncommittal fashion, Eurus cut a slice of cake and moved it to a plate. She looked at it for a moment, then picked it up. "Since you asked so nicely." With that, she set the plate on the floor just beneath Sherlock's face.

Mycroft stared at his brother as he stared at the plate. He closed his eyes to keep from hissing his annoyance. "Eurus, if you make him eat in that position he'll be sick."

"Mm, don't care." Eurus pulled the rest of the cake over and started feeding it to Mycroft one bite at a time. He started to wonder if she intended to feed him the whole thing.

She kicked out at Sherlock's arse when he tried to shift to get more comfortable. It wasn't worth him opening his mouth to complain.

"Little big brother, you need to eat." Without waiting for a response, she balanced her foot on the back of his neck in a threatening manner. "After all, I did go to the trouble of providing cake. Didn't I?"

Sherlock coughed slightly, his throat uncomfortable with the collar. 

"Didn't I?" Eurus repeated, angrier. 

"Yes, Eurus," he whispered.

She pressed down warningly with her foot and Sherlock took a tiny, tentative bite of the cake. He could manage it if she didn't rush him. Of course, that meant she likely would. He was most surprised when Eurus moved her foot again. She lent back in her chair and put her hands behind her head, relaxing. 

"Eurus-"

"Be quiet, Mycie. It's nice with you two at my feet." She sighed what sounded like a content sigh. "Family time. We should try to do this more often."

Sherlock shivered. Like hell would they start coming here on a more frequent basis.

"I know what you're thinking big brothers. But if I wanted you to come here more often, you will. Because you both know what's at stake. Don't you?" She glared pointedly at Mycroft who nodded quickly.

Sherlock nodded as well when she looked his way. He managed to keep a tight reign on his fury, but only just. This couldn't be allowed to go on forever.

Eurus reached down and removed the collar from the floor, then she pulled him upright by his curls. "Have you got something to say to me, little big brother?"

The detective closed his eyes, internal groaning in such a shift of position. "No, Eurus."

Eurus' thoughts took an abrupt left turn. "Are you good at rock climbing?"

"What?"

"Rock climbing." She gave Sherlock a shake. "Are you good at it?"

For some reason, Sherlock looked completely terrified. It wasn't a look, Mycroft revelled in seeing on his brother. 

"No. I've never done it."

"We used to go climbing when we were little, Sherlock," the younger Holmes pointed out.

"Just climbing like children do." He swallowed hard. "Why, Eurus? What are you thinking?"

"Would you like to climb the rocks here at Sherrinford? No one has ever done it."

Eurus watched her brothers closely and then changed her attention to Sherlock alone. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Eurus-" 

She reached out and slapped Mycroft hard enough to knock him sideways. Her smile came back. "You don't remember falling."

"You stamped on his hand," Mycroft hissed.

Sherlock's head began to spin. He was falling... falling from Barts, falling... falling... falling. He was a child, falling and crashing on the ground below, his arm making a cracking sound as it broke. He shook his head. "I remember."

Mycroft tried to get to his feet, to comfort his little brother. 

"Uh, uh." Eurus held her hand up in front of Mycroft, ceasing his protests. "Stay, Mycie. Like a good doggie."

Sherlock wondered what other things he had yet to remember from his childhood. What other things had Eurus done to him that he had intentionally forgotten? "Eurus, I can't do this anymore," he said as he curled forward, tired of it all.

She tightened her grip in his curls. "Do what, Sherlock?"

The detective froze, taking a few deep breaths. "This. With you. It makes my head hurt."

"I've never understood that. My head never hurts. Explain."

Sherlock closed his eyes, resigned. "It feels like there's a giant pressure on the inside, but like it's being squeezed at the same time. Sound hurts. Light hurts. Sometimes it feels like it might explode. That's the best I can do."

"Why?"

"There's no other way to explain it," he grumbled. 

"No. Why does your head hurt?"

"All this… shit you've done to me - are - doing to me, to us."

"I still don't understand." 

"It's fucking stressful!" he shouted before he could stop himself. He breathed heavily, trying to calm himself. "Stress causes headaches."

"I haven't done anything."

"You're dragging up the past. Making me remember things I would rather not."

"That’s not my fault you have a child's memory."

"I'm not a child! I have an excellent memory. An eidetic memory. I just... rewrote part of it. I don't want to go back and undo it all. It's too painful."

Mycroft spoke up. "Little sister, this is what we talked about once before. This is like pulling the wings off bees. It's cruel."

Eurus shoved Sherlock's head away, making him lose his balance. "Take him away. Put him on the table."

"Eurus," Mycroft found himself begging. "Please don't."

She ignored his words. Standing, she attached a leash to Mycroft's heavy collar, then pulled him to his feet. "Come along, big brother." She pulled him behind her to the room where Sherlock was being strapped to the table.


	4. Coventry

Sherlock had his eyes shut, but somehow still managed to look like he was going to burst into tears at any moment. 

"Kneel, doggy," Eurus ordered her brother. She walked over to Sherlock and ran her thumb beneath his eye, catching the few tears that had squeezed out. Rubbing her fingers together, she looked at the moisture. "See, I know this now. These are tears."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open. "You are unbelievable."

"No, I'm not."

Sherlock shook his head in frustration. He wanted John. He wanted Mycroft. He wanted to be playing with Rosie. Closing his eyes, he was determined to run away. He'd reached his breaking point. To that end, he blocked out everything that was going on around him and dove into his Mind Palace.

Mycroft noticed, but Eurus didn't. She was too full of herself at the moment. She skipped around the bench and grabbed the riding crop off the guard stood there. "Decision time, Mycie. Either you give Sherlock 30 strikes with this, wherever I see fit. Or he does. And it will be 60."

Mycroft practically ripped the crop from her hands. "That's not a decision, that's an order. If he does it, I'm sure it will be wherever you see fit anyway." For one blinding moment of rage, he almost forgot the other guard with the gun and turned the crop on his sister, but he controlled himself. He only hoped Sherlock could stay safely tucked away inside his head through the upcoming ordeal.

"Start low," Eurus ordered. 

"What are you hoping to achieve from this… experiment?"

"I want to see who breaks first."

Mycroft just stared at her. "I can answer that already. It will be me. I've spent my entire life trying to protect him. You don't have to make me do this."

"Oh no, no, no. I need to know the exact time you break and what causes it." 

Mycroft threw the riding crop away and glanced at the clock on the wall. "1 am and my psychotic sister."

Eurus struck him across the back of the head, hard. "You have five seconds to begin, otherwise the guard will do the honours."

Mycroft ground his teeth, then growled out, "Fine," as he gathered up the crop. Bracing himself, he struck low across his brother's legs. To his dismay, it pulled Sherlock back to the here and now and his brother cried out in pain. "I'm sorry, Lock," the government official whispered, feeling the need to give up again so soon.

"Again," Eurus ordered, stepping back to observe. Eurus commanded each strike and each location, pushing him to approach more tender flesh with each strike.

"Now his man parts."

"No," Mycroft said simply. 

"Do it, Mycroft."

The older Holmes spun on his toe and glared daggers at her. "I said, no!" He barked.

Eurus pulled a remote from her pocket and turned on the television. John and Greg appeared on the screen.

Mycroft was both furious and devastated. He had increased security on them. She shouldn't have been able to get near them, not this time. Mycroft watched the video for a long moment. Coventry. Bluff… double bluff…

Eurus couldn't get to either of them. This had to be pre-recorded footage, but he couldn't let Eurus know he knew. He sighed heavily. "Fine." Raising the crop, he prepared himself for his brother's reaction, then he brought it down just as Eurus had directed.

Sherlock screamed. It had hurt like hell. "Eurus, whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Hit him again." Mycroft did, the stroke being a lot lighter than he made out. Sherlock acted accordingly. 

"Sorry for what?" Eurus asked.

"I don't know. Anything. Everything." Sherlock looked at her with red rimmed eyes. "Please."

"What are you sorry for?" She repeated. 

Sherlock realised that he may have done what his sister wanted. "Upsetting you."

"Quite right. We were having a nice dinner together. You had to ruin it."

His chest heaved as he turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. "I'm really very sorry. I'm so sorry. Please."

Eurus smiled. "I think little big brother broke first."

Mycroft stood to the side, heaving heavy breaths. It hadn't taken him long to work out that Sherlock breaking was what Eurus was after. He only hoped it was for show. "You got what you wanted," Mycroft spat. "Let me take care of him now. He won't be any fun to you like this."

"You can take him back to the cage and coddle him if you like, but we'll play some more in the morning."

Mycroft nodded quickly and hurried forward to unstrap his brother. 

"Wait," Eurus ordered when he was free. "Get those shackles back on him first."

When Sherlock was restrained once again, Mycroft picked him up and followed a guard from the room. Another followed. 

"Coventry," Sherlock whispered so only Mycroft could hear.

The government official didn't smile, at least not outwardly, but he did breathe easier. He waited until they were alone in the cage, then gave his brother a wink to show he understood. He settled them both on the dog bed in the corner and held Sherlock close. "I'd take the manacles off, little brother, but no suit."

"It's fine," the detective just snuggled into him and it made Mycroft's almost non existent heart grow. It swelled even further when Sherlock whispered, "You're a good brother."

Mycroft settled his arm around his brother's shoulders and stared off into the distance. "So are you, Lock."

"Shame she's a rubbish little sister."

"This isn't too bad," Mycroft whispered. 

"She's locked us in a cage, Mycroft," the detective couldn't help but point out.

"Mm, she must be feeling especially tender towards up, then."

Both brothers chuckled tiredly.

"Go to sleep, baby brother," Mycroft urged. "You've been through more than I have today."

Sherlock snuggled in a little more. "How was the cake?" He asked. 

Mycroft let out a low snort, "It was actually ok. I was half expecting it to be poisoned with Viagra or something."

The detective snorted a laugh, caught completely off guard. "That does seem like something she would do."

"Let's hope she doesn't get any ideas," Mycroft said, yawning. His eyelids felt heavy and he let them fall shut. Tomorrow would come too soon.

He was beginning to question why they kept coming, all they achieved was winding Eurus up. 

"Because she's our sister," Sherlock whispered. “That, and we know what would happen if we don’t.”

Mycroft fell asleep with that thought in his head.

When an obnoxious blare of noise woke them up the next morning, both brothers groaned. It had to be incredibly early.

"Pick a side, Mycroft."

"What are my options?"

Sherlock snorted. "We go along with it. Or we ignore her."

He shook his head. "I'm all up for ignoring her if you are."

"Going along with her certainly hasn't worked." Sherlock stretched as best he could given he was still in shackles. "I really think I could get out of these." He started wriggling around, contorting himself in strange positions.

"Don't you dare dislocate anything!"

"Isn't it worth it?"

"No!" Mycroft hissed over the noise. "It would be far easier for her just to put them back on than it would be to repair any damage you choose to do to yourself."

"Fine," Sherlock pouted. "You're as bad as John."

"At least that tells me one of you has good sense."

Eurus appeared on the TV. "Enough chatter, brothers. It's time for you to be quiet."

"Speaking of John, when we get home, I'm taking him and Rosie to Angelo's for dinner." Sherlock smiled to himself. "We might even go see that movie Rosie has been going on about."

"What movie?"

Sherlock let out a laugh. "Cars."

"You don't like cars," Mycroft couldn't help but point out.

"It's a cartoon. She loves the first 2."

"Might her-"

"Silence!"

"-uncles be allowed to accompany you? It's been a while since we've done something with her."

Sherlock smirked. "I don't know. Might they?" His smirk turned to a laugh. "We could just leave that decision to Rosie."

"Hmm," Mycroft agreed. 

"Why are you so attached to her Mycroft?" Sherlock asked curiously.

The image on the television shifted to show Greg and John.

"She's highly intelligent like her mother, but she is very empathic and caring like her father. She also got a good bit of stubbornness from all three of you as well as a good dose of curiosity from yourself. Rosie isn't like other children, but she's well rounded, unlike we were at her age."

The detective raised an eyebrow. "That's quite the analysis." 

"That, and she gives excellent hugs."

"You're attached to my daughter because she's good at hugging?"

"No." Mycroft shook his head, continuing to ignore the screen. "I'm attached to your daughter because she's your daughter."

"I'll hurt them!" Eurus yelled over the speakers.

Mycroft shook his head minutely.

"An extended family outing, it is," Sherlock agreed. He leant against the bars of the cage, resting his manacled wrists on his knees.

"There's something I've been thinking about doing…" Mycroft broke off. This was hardly the best place for this discussion, but what the hell. "I'm going to ask Gregory to marry me."

Sherlock burst out laughing. 

"What?" Mycroft was outraged, but he couldn't help his own smirk at his brother's humour. "What?" He repeated. 

"He's going to ask you!"

Several guards burst in and manhandled the brothers to their knees, then they gagged them both. Neither of them were particularly surprised.

When the guards vanished, Eurus began to speak again. 

"Mummy always said it was rude to talk over people."

Sherlock ignored her and began tapping his ring against the other shackle in Morse code.

Mycroft chuckled around the gag and tapped his own ring against a cage bar.

Sherlock tapped a response right back.

"Take them to separate cells."

Sherlock couldn't help but snort as he was hauled to his feet and dragged from the cage. 

"I want to play a game, Mycroft."

The government official didn't even look at the TV. He just rolled his eyes.

"You're supposed to listen to me!"

The government official began humming to himself and looking anywhere but at the screen. He didn't know how long he could keep it up. It was easy to ignore Eurus when his brother was in the same cage, but he was struggling to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

That ended when the image on the screen was replaced with Sherlock chained in an obviously uncomfortable position, a guard pulling his head back by the curls as far as it would go.

Mycroft had to decide immediately if he was going to continue ignoring what was happening or start cooperating again. He closed his eyes and took the deepest breath he could manage around the gag. 

"Going to cooperate now, brother-mine?" Eurus' voice was no more than a snarl. 

He jerked his head once in the affirmative.

"I thought your Viagra idea was excellent, but we don't have any on the island. That was a bit disappointing. Instead, you're going to go take the item out of the box in the corner and your going to use it on yourself until I say stop. Sherlock will be watching. If you stop before I say so, he'll pay the price."

Mycroft scowled at the screen, then reached up and ungagged himself, not knowing why he hadn't bothered earlier.

"What's in the box?" he asked with some trepidation.

"Go see," Eurus ordered.

Making his way to the corner, Mycroft opened it. He shook his head. For someone not interested in sex herself, their sister certainly seemed obsessed with putting them in odd sexual situations. Inside the box was a large dildo and lube.

Mycroft spotted the camera in the corner and launched the dildo at it. The camera was smashed from the ceiling, landing in pieces all over the floor. 

"That wasn't very clever, big brother," Eurus snapped. 

Guards charged in and Mycroft just smirked. "You're not being very clever Eurus!" he shouted as he was wrestled to the ground. "This is getting boring."

"No, it's not," she argued. "It's fascinating watching you being beaten by a bunch of monkeys over and over and over-"

"Yes, alright, little sister!" He spat.

"and over." She smiled her odd smile. "Hang him from his wrists, but make sure he can touch the floor. I don't want him suffocating."

Mycroft just closed his eyes. He found himself doing it a lot when they came to Sherrinford. He didn't exactly cooperate as he was manhandled back to his feet and cuffed, but he didn't struggle either.

"I hope your comfortable, big brother. You're going to be there for quite some time. Little big brother has some puzzles to solve."

"Whatever," Mycroft grumbled not really caring. He wasn't sure what he preferred, being on his feet or being on his knees, he was sure he was going to find out.

Sherlock, still chained in a stressful position, had been shown Mycroft's predicament.

"He'll stay that way until you solve some little puzzles for me," Eurus announced.

The detective grunted around the gag. Photos were placed on the floor in front of him.

"We'll start simple. Which photo has been digitally altered?"

Sherlock blinked dumbly for a moment. Digital equipment these days were of such high quality it was damn near impossible to see fakes. He shrugged. 

"Ungag him."

Guards rushed in and did what they were told, Sherlock just worked his jaw for a moment before saying, "I don't know, Eurus."

"You haven't even tried!"

On the TV, Mycroft was hoisted up off his feet so he was hanging, suspended.

"Alright, I'll try!" Sherlock shouted.

His brother was lowered back down so he could hold some of his weight on the balls of his feet once more.

After examining the photos for quite some time, he found the clue he had been missing. It was so obvious he felt like an idiot. "It's the one on the right." It was a photo of an actor John liked. In the photo he was missing a finger. In real life, the actor wasn't.

"That was very obvious, Sherlock."

"So?"

"You are very slow. You aren't even a patch on me and you're my big brother."

"Eurus, I don't care!"

"You should."

"I told you, this place makes me tired and makes my head hurt. I'm never at my best here." He shook his head. "It's even worse when you separate me from Mycroft. I get worried." 

"What is worry?"

Sherlock shook his head. 

"You've felt it before."

She scowled. "No."

"You were worried when you tried to make Mycroft break my fingers. You worried what Mummy and Daddy would do."

"That's what that was. Interesting." Eurus seemed to process that idea for some time. "I fail to see the relevance. I can do anything I like to Mycroft whether he's in your presence or not."

"Yes. But at least if he is in the same room I can see him."

"You can see him on the screen."

"That's not what I mean," Sherlock grumbled.

She just looked out of the TV, clearly not understanding.

"When we're in the same room, I can pick up on his state of wellbeing using all of my senses, not just my vision. I need to be with him. Please."

Eurus shook her head immediately. "No."

"But, little sister-"

"No, Sherlock. You have to earn that right."

"I love you." Sherlock held his breath after he said it. He didn't know what had possessed him. It was true. It had to be or he would have killed her by now.

Eurus actually looked taken aback. "No, you don't."

"I do. No matter what you've done, you're still my little sister."

"You love John…"

"We've discussed this before. There's more than one type of love."

"Love is love."

"No. I love our parents, Mycroft, John, Rosie, you, Greg. All in different ways."

The screen went black.

"Bollocks." He tugged at his wrists, but they were too well chained for him to do anything about it and he had lost the ugly prisoner uniform last night when he'd pissed her off then.


	5. Giving Back

"Mycie, do you love me?" Eurus asked.

He blinked, wondering what had brought that on. "You should know by now that I do. I wouldn't have tried to take care of you if I didn't."

The TV went black, leaving him completely unenlightened as to why she had asked the question.

After a few hours, Mycroft decided that he would have much preferred to be on his knees. At least then he could try and relax.

* * *

Sherlock was past bored. The only things he had to distract him were his worry for Mycroft and the increasingly frequent muscle cramps he was experiencing. The position he was in was incredibly uncomfortable. "Eurus! Are you there?" There was no response and he huffed impatiently. He couldn't help but think he shouldn't have pissed Eurus off because of the no doubt consequences that were on the way. He hadn't meant to, he'd thought that was what she wanted.

Eurus entered Sherlock's cell and circled him a few times before sitting on the floor in front of him. "Did you like playing with Jim?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Yes. He kept me very… entertained."

Eurus smiled. "Good." She produced a key and released Sherlock from the collar and shackles herself. That only made him all the more wary. "Come with me." Eurus stood and led him from the cage and down a corridor.

The more he walked, the more he didn't like where this was going. "Eurus-"

"Keep quiet, brother dear." They stopped outside a heavy looking door. "This is where the guests of Sherrinford are taken when they've been naughty." Eurus used a swipe card and the keypad to unlock the door. "Go on. Get inside. For big brother's sake."

Sherlock didn't like the idea of a room with a door like that. Not even Eurus' old cell had it.

"In, little big brother. Right now."

Slowly, with a ducked head Sherlock walked in front of her. The cell, if it could be called that, was painfully small. He could barely turn around in it. Sitting would be impossible. It was clearly illegal to have a cell like this in any prison or facility, yet here it was. Before he could say anything, the cell door slammed shut behind him. He jerked in surprise, it was painfully dark also. The door opened up again, but before Sherlock could step out, two guards slapped cuffs on his wrists and shoved him to his knees, doing them up behind him and joining them to an eyebolt on the wall.

Sherlock closed his eyes. This was bad, very bad. Up until now, he had been able to handle everything, but this was too much like the small cell he'd been kept in in Serbia. At least it didn't smell and it wasn't unbearably cold. Still, it brought back memories best left buried deep beneath his Mind Palace. He groaned, rolling his shoulders. Sherlock found himself going into his Mind Palace and thinking only of John and Rosie, curled up on the sofa watching crap kids telly.

Mycroft opened his eyes to see who had entered his cell. It was his sister. He knew that no matter what he said, it would be the wrong thing, so he kept silent.

Eurus motioned to the guard that had accompanied her to let Mycroft down and release him. "You can go anywhere you want, big brother. Of course, a guard will be with you at all times, so don't try to leave or call for help." She turned to go.

"Where's Sherlock?" he asked. When he got no response, he shouted, "Where's Sherlock?!"

Eurus just kept walking.

He really should like the idea of being able to wander freely, but for some reason it felt sour.

"Oi," he called the nearest guard. "Where's my suit?"

Once it had been produced, Mycroft got dressed, then he went in search of his brother. He visited every room they had been in to date, not finding him in any of them. Turning to the guard, he demanded, "Take me to my brother."

The guard acted as though he hadn't heard a word.

"Take me to the toilet."

The guard pointed up the corridor. So he'd been ordered to do everything Mycroft wanted, except help Sherlock. Well there had to be loopholes. He was a government official, he was an expert at finding loopholes.

"Actually, take me on a tour of the secure facilities. I want to see where all the holding cells are."

The guard grunted. "You used to rule over this place. You know where they all are."

It was the most Mycroft had heard one guard speak. "This place has more secrets than I do. Tour. Now."

The guard shrugged and led Mycroft down a different corridor than the one they had been on. They passed several standard cells with glass fronts. Sherlock wasn't in any of those. Next, they ventured near the more high security cells, the ones like Eurus'. Mycroft was allowed to inspect each of those in turn.

"You've missed something."

The guard glared at him.

Mycroft glanced up the corridors, ready to take off at a run, the gun rammed in the base of his neck forced him to think twice.

"There's no need for violence. We merely skipped that corridor." Mycroft pointed to the left.

The guard grunted and shoved his charge in that direction.

They visited the infirmary, laundry facilities and other rooms, but the guard passed one door not offering to open it.

Mycroft asked, "What's in there?" He knew exactly what the small room was used for and now he knew his brother was in there.

"Nothing. Keep moving."

"Eurus! I've found him! Let me in. He won't do well in there!"

"It's just a cupboard, Mycroft," Eurus' voice came over a loud speaker.

"It's a cupboard with my brother in it!" He snapped back.

"Lock is a big boy. He can handle the dark for a bit."

She didn't understand. She didn't know. Well, he wasn't about to tell her the truth. "Wasn't this a game? Well, I found him. You have to let him out now."

Eurus paused for a moment. "I don't recall making that promise, Mycroft."

"You didn't make any promises."

"I know," she sighed. "Open it."

The guard twisted the lock and pulled the door open. It was full of cleaning supplies and no little brother.

"Where is he?!" Mycroft had to fight down a sense of panic. He had been certain Sherlock was behind that door.

"Oh, you have the right idea, big brother. You just have the wrong corridor. Sherrinford is a big place. Even you never saw the final plans, did you?"

Mycroft didn't give a shit about the guard at his heel, he took off immediately in the direction of the adjoining corridor, the guard couldn't get a clear shot on him.

Down that corridor, there were several heavy doors lined up next to each other. Over one of them, there was a red light. He banged his fist on it several times, then stopped to listen. A faint banging noise answered him back.

"Get it open."

"No."

Several guards swarmed the corridor and Mycroft sighed. "Please, Eurus, let him out!"

"Handcuff him, in the cell next door. Same as Sherlock."

Sherlock listened to the sounds coming first from the corridor, then from beyond the wall next to him. It wasn't a difficult deduction that his brother was now in the same predicament as he was. He felt bad for taking comfort in his brother's proximity, but it helped to remind him that this wasn't Serbia and their time here would come to an end.

He let himself slip back into his Mind Palace to think of John, think of Rosie. This time he thought of the food fight they'd had when John had tried to make the 5 year old eat sprouts.

Mycroft tried to gauge the passage of time, but it was proving impossible. He had no idea what time of day it was. He had no idea what day it was, for that matter. He was tired enough that Eurus could have kept them occupied all day. If they were lucky, it was early Sunday morning all ready.

That still meant at least 12 hours. Which meant a possible 12 hours in that position. Longer for Sherlock. And his little brother had no clothes to keep him from the chill the small space seemed to offer.

It was impossible to effectively knock on the adjoining wall, so Mycroft didn't even try, but he still had his shoes on, so he was able to kick the door behind him and make quite the noise. Using Morse code, he sent his brother a message, just to let him know he wasn't alone.

He didn't get a response though and it made him begin to seriously panic. He kept kicking at the wall, sending a clear message to his brother, but there wasn't even a thud.

Sherlock had gone too deeply into his Mind Palace to be aware of his brother's efforts. He was spinning Rosie around in the air, making her giggle. It was one of his fondest memories. John watched on, smiling. It had been a perfect day.

Before Sherlock realised it, hours had passed. He was sure he must have fallen asleep at some point, but couldn't recall exactly.

He was jerked alert when the cell door opened, bright light flooding in. Two guards lent in and removed the cuffs from the walls before dragging him out by the hair. His knees protesting with every movement. He looked to his left where Mycroft was receiving the same reception.

"Sherlock, are you alright? I tried to get your atten-" One of the guards struck him across the face.

"No talking."

Mycroft glared at the man, but he didn't try to speak again, it was futile.

Sherlock found himself being pulled to his feet and dragged down the corridor, his brother right behind him.

They were led directly back to their cage where tea and toast were waiting for them. There was even a single flower in a bud vase sitting on the floor. They were uncuffed and shoved into the cage.

Sherlock staggered a few steps before falling to his knees, then to the side.

Mycroft summoned strength from he didn't know where, in order to stop his brother passing out completely.

"You need to drink something." Mycroft lifted one of the mugs of tea to Sherlock's lips. He supported his head whilst he drank. "You're going to be fine, Lock."

Sherlock had begun an insistent trembling sometime ago, but it was only now that he began to notice it, having been otherwise engaged with the whole aching and awful memory thing.

"You're okay." Mycroft set the tea down and rocked his brother, his arms wrapped around him. "I've got you, baby brother."

Sherlock's eyes drifted closed, taking further comfort from his brother.

"Did you not hear me?"

The younger man didn't reply, he found himself unable to actually string a sentence together.

"I tried talking through Morse code with you. But you never replied."

Sherlock turned his head into Mycroft's shoulder. He wanted to explain to him, but he needed a few more minutes to pull himself together.

Mycroft just held him close, completely understanding. His thoughts drifted to 10 years ago and how the very idea of holding Sherlock so closely was a distant near non-existent dream.

The detective finally mumbled, "Mind Palace."

"Ah, I see." Mycroft understood now why his brother hadn't answered him, it should have been obvious really.

Maybe that old trick was more effective than he had given it credit for. He quickly stripped out of his jacket and wrapped it around Sherlock's shoulders.

His brother let out a sigh, then completely surprised him by asking, "Toast?"

Mycroft broke off a bite and fed it to him, relieved. The sooner Sherlock got something in him, the sooner he'd get some of his strength back. He knew that he probably hadn't eaten on Friday through nerves. And Eurus had been too controlling yesterday to be persuaded to let Sherlock eat.

When the detective began to feel more like himself, he sat up on his own. Spotting the flower in the vase, he glared at it. For a moment, he considered kicking it over, then decided it wasn't worth rousing their sister's anger. Instead he concentrated on his brother. "Thank you, Myc."

Mycroft blinked dumbly, continuing to feed his little brother as he was determined to tell John he had actually eaten. "Why?"

Sherlock rolled his shoulders and stretched. "I might have been in my Mind Palace, but I knew you were there. I heard you." He shrugged. "It reminded me where I was."

"I'm presuming you haven't said that out loud to our dear sister."

Sherlock shook his head. "What do you reckon that game was all about?"

"I've never mentioned... that," Mycroft said, trying to be circumspect. If Eurus didn't know about Serbia, he wasn't going to be the one to tell her. "I suppose she merely wanted to see our reactions. I fear I put on the greater show."

Sherlock frowned. "What?"

"She let me go from the cell. Told me I could go anywhere I wanted just couldn't leave. I tried to find you and failed. It made me… panic far more than perhaps was necessary."

"Because you knew…"

"Yes."

Sherlock bowed his head. He'd had nightmares about Serbia. They hadn't stopped completely, but since he and John had started sharing a bed years ago, they might as well have for their infrequency. "I'm fine." He looked up into his brother's eyes. "Really."

Mycroft let out a dry chuckle. "I don't believe you, little brother. Eurus might not be able to tell when you're lying but I certainly can."

Sherlock smiled in acknowledgement. "Well, I'll be fine when I get home to John and Rosie." He leant over and picked up his mug of tea, then drained it. "I'm surprised Eurus hasn't made an appearance by now."

"I have no idea what she does all day."

Sherlock laughed at that, he hadn't really had the chance to think about it. They'd been too preoccupied.

"She must spend some time actually running this place," Mycroft mused. "It hasn't devolved into chaos."

"You don't have to sound so impressed." Sherlock lay down and stretched out, enjoying the luxury of it.

"You don't realise how much you appreciate space and company until it's taken away from you."

"That's precisely the point, I think," Mycroft offered.

The television flickered to life. "Do I have to spell it out for you big brother? Those are the things that have been taken away from me."

Mycroft frowned for a moment, thinking. "Eurus, you've already killed a man this weekend. It was nearly 2. You can't live in society when you can do that so easily."

"I don't want to live behind glass in a bare room! I don't want to be alone!"

It was the first time she had expressed such feelings. It caught both the brothers off guard. She had sounded almost... human.

"What do you expect me to do about it, Eurus? You have no clear sense of right and wrong. Everything is a grey area for you."

"I like flowers. I want flowers. I want to talk to people. Any people. I don't care how. I want more than one room so I don't feel trapped." She swayed from side to side. "I want music of all kinds."

Mycroft frowned. "Why are you telling me all this, little sister?"

Eurus scrunched her nose up and peered into the camera but didn't speak. "You're in control of this place now, not me."

Mycroft leapt to his feet. "Guards! Bring my brother his clothes." He walked from the cage that hadn't been locked. The guards all backed away respectfully.

Sherlock stared after him in shock. Then slowly got to his own feet. His suit was brought in and dumped on the desk and he immediately began to dress.

Neither of them trusted this turn of events. They'd leave the island as fast as they could once they had returned Eurus to her cell and locked it with a code no one on Sherrinford knew. Once home, a new governor would have to be found as well as completely new staff. But all that could be sorted later, for now home awaited.


End file.
